


Family Ties

by rococowitch



Series: When the Night Comes [7]
Category: When The Night Comes (Visual Novel)
Genre: Jude and her brothers, also FYI her first name is Theodosia, also her horse's name is Fergus, especially when they have vampires!, pre-wtnc, she has a lot of them, this is also pre-lunaris, we all love a good background story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rococowitch/pseuds/rococowitch
Series: When the Night Comes [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596103
Kudos: 7





	Family Ties

Gold and green flash past Jude as she rides through a sun-drenched forest. She had been given an assignment in her hometown; she’d tried to refuse it, but as a new General it was her responsibility to take on more difficult cases. 

Fergus’ gallop never falters as they travel, not stopping until dusk when she arrives in town. She stops in to visit the local Enforcer to receive further details on her assignment, and he hands her the letter with trembling hands. Her throat goes dry as her eyes scan the letter. 

_Your presence is requested promptly at the Ainsworth Estate._

The letter is read over and over again as Jude tries to process it, the page crinkling as her grip tightened, her fist shaking, her eyes frantically flitting between lines.

The words seem to blend together as she grapples to understand it.

_Vampire_

_Multiple fatalities_

_Unbreachable_

She exhales, feeling like she’s forgotten how to breathe. Hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, she makes her leave with the Enforcer.

It was time for her to go home.

———————————————

She leaves Fergus at the Hunter barracks and begins heading towards her childhood home. She knows the route with her eyes closed, her feet following a well-trodden path of their own accord. 

The last rays of the sun stretch behind the Ainsworth Estate. Jude feels like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, each beat in time with another step. She had sworn to herself as a child in the Hunter Academy that she would never again come home. The last time she’d seen the house was through the back window of a carriage as she was carted off to begin her training as a Hunter. Against her will.

_Pain radiates from her arms as her two oldest brothers grip them, every muscle straining to pull away._

_“Please, please, don’t make me go, I want to stay, please–” Her throat is burning, raw from the guttural screams. Her whole life is here: the horses, the forest, her father.  
_

_“Shut up, Theodosia.” Jasper sneers down at her, his curled lip contorting his features. Another wave of anger surges through Jude at the nickname. “This is your duty as an Ainsworth.”  
_

_“You should be honored, you little twit.” Jerrod’s voice is cold and cutting, and his laugh sends shivers down her spine as tears stream down her face.  
_

_Her other two brothers are ahead, packing a few small trunks into the carriage. She was really leaving, wasn’t she? Jude looks wildly around for her father._

_He stands, back to her, arms crossed, watching the carriage._

_“Papa,” Jude sobbed. “Papa, please, I want to stay here with you…” Her father turns to her, eyes that matched her own shining._

_“No.”  
_

Jude snaps out of her reverie as a cold gust of wind blows past her. Some windows are aglow with candlelight, and her eyes follow a trail to one window on the upper left corner of the house.

Her father’s study.

The candlelight inside flickers and she swallows thickly. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she steps up to the house. 

Her hand traces along the plaster as she moves to the side of it. Taking the front door wasn’t smart, so she decides to follow her old path back into her room. She scales the side of the estate with ease, her worn-in foot and hand holds still in place, her muscle recalling movements she thought long forgotten. 

Quietly she slips into her room, her feet light on the hardwood, almost silent. Her breath catches; she was surprised to see it exactly as she left it, a whirl of soft pink and cream and frills. A memorial for a person long lost.

She shakes her head to refocus herself and continues out into the hallway.

Something pulls at the center of her stomach and leads her in the direction of her father’s study. Her heart beats faster, and terror rolls over her in waves. What would she would find there? A body? A monster? With every step she wants to turn the other direction, but she presses on.

Soon, she stands in front of the ornately carved door, her hand hovering above the handle. 

She pushes through, her other hand on the pommel of her sword, ready to be drawn. Her eyes dart around, assessing, waiting.

The room is empty. 

Walking further into the study, she looks around for any sign of her father. Her fingers lightly brush over a letter on the desk with his scrawl. She feels something, a presence, too familiar; it makes her hackles rise.

A chilling voice makes her jump and she wheels around, sword drawn.

“I wondered when they’d be sending you here, Theodosia.” Jasper stands in the doorway, arms crossed and haughty smirk on his face. He looked older than the gangly teen she saw the day she left, but still young; his skin was pale, a deathly pallor, and his eyes shone a blood red. He makes a thoughtful noise as he surveys her. Jude can feel the scrape of his gaze as he takes her in. “You’ve made General, I see.” He flashes a grin, long fangs glinting. “Was that before or after you slaughtered your little Tristan?”

A deep-seated anger Jude didn’t know lurked within her surges in her veins and she readjusted her grip on her sword. 

“Where’s father.” It's not a question, and her voice is low and deadly. Jasper’s grin grows wider and he steps forward. 

“Oh, you’ll see him soon.” Jasper’s tone is high, almost childlike, teasing. “The view of the house from the backyard is _quite_ lovely.”

Jude’s blood goes cold at her brother’s words. She glances out of the window and back to her brother, who tilts his chin towards the opening. His hands are clasped behind his back; if he plans to harm her, it's not now. Striding over to the window, her chest tightens. There, a few meters away, is little headstone in plain view of the house. How long had her father been there?

“We waited a number of years after you left, little sister,” Jasper coos, answering her mind’s question. “Your precious _papa_ had been weak since you were born, since _you_ killed our mother. Sending you off brought him to his knees, and he never was able to be what this family needed.” Slowly, Jasper steps closer to her, they were only a few feet apart. 

Jude turns to fully face her eldest brother. “Why?” Her face is hard, her body shaking from restraining herself. She wants nothing more than to drive her sword through his heart, but she needed answers first. 

Jasper’s head cocks to the side, contemplating an answer. 

“We come from a great lineage, though you’ve never seemed to appreciate that. Fools, you and father, for not realizing the potential we had to rise to greatness.” He takes another a step and plucks a paperweight up from the desk and inspected it closely. “We needed a change. I found someone to help us with that.” His red eyes flick to hers and he chuckles. “And how _great_ we’ve become. The town is under our control, and Eskria is only a matter of time.” Another step forward, Jude and Jasper inches apart. He reaches out and grabs her chin, almost tenderly, brow furrowed as he looks at her.

“Such a pity,” he murmurs. “So much wasted potential.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the shadows of the study shift. Jerrod steps out, eyes wild with hunger. She hears footsteps echo around her and as she knows her remaining two brothers circle around her. 

Her blood roars in her ears as she takes in her predicament, an echo of laughter surrounding her. She's let herself get distracted, broken the cardinal rule of being a Hunter: kill first. 

“Nowhere to run, little huntress,” Jerrod hisses. Wicked, fanged grins glint in the candlelight. 

“Goodbye, sister,” Jasper mutters.

A beat, and then her brothers lunge. 

Something finally clicks back into place within Jude as her body reacts out of instinct. Caught off guard by her siblings, she let herself be surrounded and blindsided. A panic starts to creep up the back of her mind, but the thought quickly extinguishes itself as she dodged a clawed hand.

Jasper was her most intelligent sibling, and he stays on the outskirts of the circle, watching with amusement in his eyes, letting the other three do his dirty work as he always had. Jonah's eyes burn with hunger; he wants first blood, always the impulsive one, and comes at her with brute force. Metal screams against his claws as her sword blocks him, their eyes locked. 

A growl escapes his lips as he surges forward, and Jude spins underneath him. Driving upward, her silver blade slices through his heart, his body falling to the ground with a thump. 

Jovian is next, the fourth Ainsworth child. He is much more slender and quick, darting about her and managing to catch her cheek with a claw. She hisses in pain but catches the pattern of his movement. Flicking her wrist, her dagger slides smoothly into her palm and she throws, her aim true, striking her youngest brother. He, too, falls lifeless before her.

She remains tense, waiting for another attack, but none comes. Her breathing begins to steady as she notices she suddens solitude. She growls as she realizes the game afoot.

Jasper is _testing_ her, to see what she could do.

Taking a breath, she sets out in search of her second brother, wiping the blood that spilled from the thin cut on her cheek. As children, Jerrod and Jude resembled each other in hair color only, both having inherited their mother’s blonde curls. The greatest animosity was between them, and as children, they fought constantly. 

It does not take long for her to find him in his favorite room of the house, the weapons room. Generations of Ainsworth men and women had been hunters before her, going as far back as the Hunters themselves. Relics of the past gild the walls, and underneath their grandfather’s broadsword stands Jerrod.

“Little huntress,” he growls, his lips contorted into a sinister grin. “Tell me, why was it that _you_ were selected for our family’s greatest honor?” Jude stands silent, grip firm on her sword, as he continues. “You, out of all of us, the weakest, the _girl_ , given the opportunity to ascend to greatness?” Jude huffs a small laugh despite herself.

“I’m not the one that failed the aptitude test, Jerrod.” Her brother’s eyes flash, and he lunges, not at her, but at the wall; he grabs their great-great uncle’s axe, plaster falling after from the force of his grip. With a primal scream, he charges at her, the bright ring of metal clashing as he brings his weapon down against Jude's sword. A chaotic, unsettling energy roils off of him, and Jude realizes with another laugh what he was trying to do.

Jerrod is _proving_ himself, trying to show her he is _better_.

He puts up more of a fight than the younger two brothers; with a deft lunge, he sends Jude’s sword flying from her hand. He corners in on her, eyes bright and crazed. 

“Some General,” he mutters. He raises his axe again, and Jude flings her hands to the side, against the wall, grappling for whatever weapon touched her first. She curls her fingers around the handle of a metal whip and dives away from Jerrod's incoming blow, crouching low on the other side of the room. The whip is enchanted, the ball at the end of it glowing with a magenta light. She flings it at Jerrod, wrapping around his wrist and pulls him to the ground.

A howl comes from her brother as the magic seems to surge through him, and within seconds he withers and turnes into ash.

A cold laugh echoes through the house.

Jasper is waiting.

She walks quickly, her sword returned to her side and the whip firmly hand. She pushes open the doors of the library, her and Jasper’s favorite part of the house.

He stands before her, calm, and smiles, deceptively affectionate as he lookes at her.

“Baby Jude, our father’s pride and joy.” Jasper chuckles, sending a cold chill down her spine again. Jude's mouth curls into a snarl and she readies the whip, causing Jasper to tut. “Now, now, little sister, don’t be so _rude_. I’m not here to fight.” Her brow furrows.

“You always were a sneaky bastard, don’t lie to me,” she hisses. Jasper laughs. 

“The mouth on you! Hunting certainly has wiped almost any trace of noblility from that little brain of yours.” He steps closer to her, hands open and palms out. “I want to offer you something.” Jude’s eyes narrow. 

“What do you have that I could possibly want?” Jasper takes another step.

“A seat at the table, as it were.” Seeing the look of confusion cross Jude’s face, he rolls his eyes. “I’m giving you a second chance at greatness, sister. To be my right-hand man.” 

Jude’s brows shoot up and an incredulous laugh bubbles up from her lips. “You cannot be serious, Jasper.” A snarl contorts his features; in a flash, his hand is around her throat. 

“You either stay and assist me or you leave here in a box, _Theodosia_.” His eyes glint dangerously, clearly unprepared for Jude to bite back at him like this. As a child, she had always been meek and afraid; now, she meets his gaze and grins boldly, the dried blood on her cheek cracking.

“Get over yourself, brother. You were never meant for _greatness,”_ she spits. Taking advantage of the momentary shock, she kicks him away from her and she pulls at the whip. 

Jasper is quick and cunning, meeting Jude blow for blow. The siblings are an equal match, and as they fight every inch gained is quickly taken back by the other. The fight seems to stretch on, neither one gaining the upper hand until Jude somehow manages to strike Jasper with her sword, the silver burning a thin line against his cheek to match hers.

“You little _bitch_!” He lunges at her, any semblance of tact forgotten, and Jude meets him head-on. She blocks his hands with her sword and with her dagger plunges it into his heart, pushing it in further, making it stick. He gasps, eyes wide, and collapses, Jude sliding to the ground with him. Cupping the back of his head, she turns his face towards her. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Jude pushes harder on the dagger, making Jasper gasp. He reaches for her coat, grasping, before he sags lifeless against her.

Jude falls back, feeling the air leave her lungs as she takes in what she had just done. As much as she detested her brothers, the weight of fratricide settles heavy upon her, a final lingering tie to her nobility.

Eventually, she gets up and makes her way to leave. The house felt truly empty, save for her, and it makes her skin crawl with unease. Leaving this place far behind was what she had sworn to do. There is nothing for her here, save for pained memories.

As she leaves, she circles back through her father’s study and returns to the letter on the desk, her heart in her throat as she reads it. 

_My dearest Jude,_

_Your eighteenth birthday hangs over me with a mixture of joy and fear, for I know you soon leave the protection of your school. I have no doubt you are ready to head into the world, but if our family has taught us anything it is that no Hunter is ever truly safe._

_My heart aches at the amount of time it has taken to write this, and I realize my failings as a father are far too great to ever forgive. So I ask not for forgiveness, but only for you to know this:_

_You are, and always have been, the light of my life. I have always been proud of you, and I never once stopped loving you, despite what my actions may have said._

_Happy birthday, my daughter._

_Love,_

_Papa_

Jude's vision clouds with tears, and she almost doesn't see a little envelope fall as she moves the letter. Picking it up, she sees her name on the front and empties its contents into her palm.

It is her father’s signet ring.

With trembling hands, she slides it onto her finger and curles her hand into a fist, holding it over her heart. 

She glance out the window again, a murmured _I love you_ to the lone gravestone, and heads outside.

Never again would she return.


End file.
